


illusion

by ah_choo (klarkson)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Actor!Mingyu, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Secret Relationship, kinda???, maybe more than light but idk really, producer!woozi, they're in their late 30's here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarkson/pseuds/ah_choo
Summary: [ih-loo-zhuh n]noun1. something that deceives by producing a false or misleading impression of reality.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry???

When Mingyu wakes up, he feels a cold breeze and smells the scent of rain and cigarette smoke. He opens his eyes, eyelids still heavy with sleep, to see a man leaning on the windowsill, window opened wide. Mingyu shudders, but the coldness doesn’t seem to bother the other man. His sharp profile looks cool as he takes another drag and breaths the smoke out into the rain outside. It takes him a while to notice that Mingyu is awake, but when he finally does, he smiles gently. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes clearly showing the fatigue he’s also seen last evening, but wasn’t sure if the bad lightning doesn’t deceive him.

“Good morning Mingyu,” the man says, voice soft as always.

“Morning, Jihoon,” he replies. The man stifles the cigarette in the ashtray and comes to sit on the edge of the bed to kiss Mingyu. When they first started meeting, the younger didn’t like that aftertaste in his mouth, but he got used to it with time, now associating this taste only with Jihoon. “How do you feel?” he asks when his boyfriend separates from him, his head still hanging low, close to Mingyu’s.

“Good. You?”

“Same.” His stomach decides to grumble at that moment. Jihoon smirks.

“Hungry?”

“Maybe.”

The man gets up and takes him by the hand to make him go out of bed. Cold air hits his naked skin and he shudders again, goosebumps appearing. Jihoon notices and quickly closes the window. “Sorry,” he says, and goes straight to Mingyu’s suitcase to take out some random shirt from it and toss to him. “Better not catch a cold.”

Mingyu nods and puts the t-shirt on before proceeding to the kitchen. The house they are renting smells of fresh wood and cleaning supplies, making a weird combination that doesn’t quite make you feel at home, breaking the illusion that it’s day like every other, that they live together and wake up the other with kisses. It seems fake; it _is_ fake, after all.

But when Jihoon makes them breakfast, Mingyu lets himself believe in this illusion. Lets himself to not see the truth, because this is the best he can do in his situation.

“So. How’s your drama?” Jihoon asks, breaking the silence as he finishes and puts two plates on the table. “I’ve heard it’s quite a success.”

Mingyu shrugs.

“Well, it’s more popular overseas than in Korea and they want to shorten it by a few episodes.”

“Such a pity, I like it. And you said you like filming it.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu nods with his mouth full of scrambled eggs. “I didn’t have that much fun on the set since a long time.” A bit of food falls out of his mouth and Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“You’re like a child, I swear.” He cleans it with a napkin. Mingyu gulps and smiles sweetly.

“That’s one of my charms. And you love it.”

Jihoon just sighs, trying to look unbothered, but Mingyu knows him too well not to see he’s actually holding back a smile and an answer that sounds like _Yes, I do_. But he also knows he shouldn’t drag it out, so he quickly changes the topic.

“How’s work?”

“I’m not complaining.” Jihoon pokes the food with his fork. “But these kids I’m debuting soon… They’re really talented, I can’t say they aren’t, but they can’t take anything seriously.”

“Aren’t all young groups like that? Like, weren’t your group like that?”

Jihoon shrugs.

“Maybe. But not to this degree. And I already composed and produced predebut, so...”

Mingyu nods, and steals one piece of tomato from Jihoon’s plate. The older scrunches his nose but doesn’t comment on that.

“Do you miss performing on stage?”

“Sometimes,” he admits. “But I feel more comfortable as a producer, you know.”

“Yeah.” He vaguely remembers the first time he met Jihoon; he was an MC in the music show and Jihoon was promoting with his group. The thing he noticed immediately was that despite the cool appearance he was showing on stage, performing the difficult choreo and still keeping a steady, powerful vocals, off stage he was really quiet, reserved even, not talking at all in the interview. He didn’t feel good there. So after a few years he decided to step back and remain there in the shadow, just as a producer and composer, finally founding his own entertainment company. It made him happy.

After the breakfast, they decide to go shopping for something they can make dinner from. Jihoon says he missed Mingyu’s cooking, and that makes his heart go warmer a bit. He doesn’t think he’s a particularly good cook, but he’s not bad.

And so they go, making it a little walk around the village too. Mingyu’s hand feels cold as he holds an umbrella with it, and his right arm is wet, because he doesn’t want Jihoon to soak. His boyfriend has hands in his pockets, looking around and trying to appreciate the scenery, even if the weather is actually the worst it could have been. An old lady in the only shop in the village looks suspiciously at the tall man, probably wondering if he’s _that_ actor or not, but fortunately doesn’t say anything – and doesn’t pay attention to Jihoon at all. On their way back Mingyu holds Jihoon’s hand, and even if it’s risky, they can do it for a short while since there aren’t people around. It feels like an illusion of the real relationship they can’t have.

When preparing the dinner, Mingyu shares with Jihoon some funny stories from his drama set, and falls more and more in love with this man when he smiles and his eyes are shining. He’s happy he can see him like that, not hiding his sincere feelings. If he ever had doubts about whether Jihoon loves him or not, that would wipe them all.

But then Mingyu’s phone rings, and he has to pick it up, because it’s his manager calling.

And his illusion breaks.

And he’s reminded again that he’s a famous actor, who doesn’t really have time for real love.

“I have to come back to Seoul earlier,” he says with a sigh. Jihoon’s smile disappears. The warm meal Mingyu just made doesn’t smell appealing anymore. “A very important photoshoot got rescheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“I thought we could spend tomorrow together too.”

Mingyu sits beside Jihoon and takes his hand. He holds it tight, but at the same time like it was some fragile piece of art. Well, it is a fragile piece of art, at least in his opinion.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon, but you know...”

He nods, but doesn’t look at the younger.

“Let’s enjoy what we have now then,” he says quietly.

They eat dinner in silence, only the sound of cutlery hitting the plates and soft sounds of rain outside can be heard in the house.

After dinner Mingyu wants to go straight for washing the dishes, but Jihoon stops him by pulling him by his elbow and kissing him suddenly. Mingyu can feel how desperate the man is, one of his hands gripping taller’s neck, bringing him down, but quickly coming down to lift his shirt and touch his chest. He knows how much he wants – no, scratch that, how much he _needs_ it. And he’s ready to give him his everything.

Mingyu lets himself be pulled by Jihoon to the bedroom. Their clothes are a colorful mess on the floor as they’re both moaning mess on the bed. Jihoon’s nails leave red marks on Mingyu’s back as Mingyu’s teeth are leaving marks on Jihoon’s chest. That’s not very wise of them both, but they purposefully ignore the consequences they’ll surely face. Jihoon wraps his legs around Mingyu’s waist, Mingyu goes harder and the pleasure seems to have no end.

“When will we meet again?” The younger asks when they’re laying cuddled after, already cleaned up and clothed (both in Mingyu’s clothes, just because).

“Your birthday?”

“I’m busy,” he sighs. “We’re filming two last episodes. After?”

“Sounds good,” Jihoon nods. “I hope I can find time, I’m debuting my group in may after all.”

“We’ll make it work.” Mingyu kisses top of Jihoon’s head. “We’ll make it work like we always do.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon cuddles up closer to the younger. “Love you, you know?”

“I know. And I love you too.”

They close their eyes.

 

Jihoon wakes up to nothing. No one beside him, no rain sounds from outside, no sounds of a person making breakfast. The room is empty and cold, and the house doesn’t seem that friendly anymore.

He gets up and packs his things slowly, noticing how he’s still wearing Mingyu’s shirt. He’ll have to do something with it later, but for now he leaves it on. It feels good on his way smaller frame.

He doesn’t have appetite, so he doesn’t eat breakfast. He just makes himself coffee and lights up a cigarette. He thinks he should feel pathetic, but he doesn’t. He feels as empty and cold as this house. Nothing new to be honest.

He calls the owner and an hour later he’s paying and giving the keys to his daughter, packed and ready to leave. Unfortunately the girl recognizes him, asking if he’s really _that_ Woozi, and he politely refuses taking a photo with her. Maybe he’s thankful that Mingyu isn’t there, because that wouldn’t be only suspicious; they would be busted and everything would be over.

When he finally comes home, his wife greets him with a smile and a kiss.

“You’re early!” She says happily. “How was your weekend? Did you write a lot?”

He shakes his head as he takes off his coat. “It was raining too much and I couldn’t concentrate.”

“Oh, dear, I thought being alone, no one to interrupt you, would help you with writing some songs, you were so excited about that trip.” She looks at him sympathetically. “Do you want some coffee? I suppose you’re tired from driving for so long.”

The man nods, and his wife starts telling him how her weekend was.

Later, when they go to sleep, she notices a bruise on his chest and asks about it with a worried expression. He tells her it’s because of the drawer in the wardrobe, _you know how clumsy I am sometimes_. She laughs at that and says he’s right.

“I was worried that there’s an other woman,” she admits with a laugh and Jihoon chuckles.

“There isn’t any other woman, believe me.”

“Of course I believe you, why wouldn’t I?” She gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, love.”

He kisses her forehead.

“Goodnight.”

In his dream, there’s an other person in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to scream at me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/bbywooz)


End file.
